Three Weeks

Elrik and Gallan lost the rest of the group somewhere in the halls. Groups began to split off as they spotted armored men in different places. They came to the outer gates and stopped in shock. The whole town blazed in an inferno. Armored men ran all through the village slaughtering anyone they came close enough to. Small groups of differently armored men sneaked behind buildings and struck at the attackers when the got close enough. It was clear to see that the first group was winning the battle. Fraend’s men, the second group, were few and far between. The merchant’s men must have caught everyone off guard. Two armored men walked out of the nearest house. Elrik and Gallan ran at them. The men lifted their shields and blocked the dagger thrusts. They swung their clubs and hit the stable hands across the head. Elrik collapsed and Gallan felt his knees buckle. He had to stay standing had to keep himself from passing out, from getting himself and his friend killed, if Elrik was even still alive. The men li fted their clubs again and in quick succession beat Gallan to the ground. Darkness slid across his vision and the world went blank.

Light peaked into Elrik’s vision. His head throbbed and ached. He touched the back of his head and it came around bloody. Elrik dropped his head back to the ground. Why was he alive? He wasn’t sure he was. The smoke seeped into his nostrils. Was someone cooking bacon? He vomited. His head hurt so badly his stomach felt ill. After a few minutes memories of the night before flooded back into him. He sat up fast and looked around. Too fast. His head couldn’t take that fast of movement and he almost slid back into unconsciousness. He strained for the strength to lift his eyelids. Two men, probably the same men from last night without their armor, stood around a fire. Elrik vomited again when he realized it wasn’t bacon he smelled it was the burning flesh of men. He couldn’t stop his mouth from watering. The men began to turn and Elrik laid back down and feigned death. Something near him shifted and he held his breath and prayed. An eternity later Elrik felt safe enough to peak an eye open. He looked aroun d himself. He was laying in an area used for the same purpose the gathering chamber had served last night. He looked over at the men carrying a woman over to the fire. Elrik grabbed a rock and cast it straight at the men. It hit one man on the head and he collapsed. The other turned and drew his sword. The one on the ground crawled onto his hands and knees. Elrik suddenly realized he hadn’t though very well. He had no weapon. The man who had fallen was back to his feet and had his mace in hand. Elrik grabbed another rock and threw it at the first man, with the sword. The man ducked and licked his lips worriedly.

"Why aren’t you dead? Never mind, it will only take a moment to fix the problem" growled the man with the mace.

The sword man swung at Elrik and Elrik dodged the swing and grabbed his arm. He slammed the man’s elbow off of his knee and grabbed a dagger out of the man’s belt. The dagger slid into the man’s gut and hot blood sprayed onto Elrik’s hand. Elrik took the sword. He had no idea how to use one of these. He held it like a club and swung it like he had when he played stick games as a child. The mace man easily jumped out of reach and shifted his mace deftly in his hands. The mace crashed onto the sword just above the hilt and shook it from Elrik’s hands. Elrik jumped back and kicked the man in the crotch.